


College Captivation

by ficonfire



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Alternate Universe - Teachers, M/M, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Teacher John, Teacher-Student Relationship, Teacherlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 04:53:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1538315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficonfire/pseuds/ficonfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson has been teaching at the university for five years. He still has nightmares. He is still haunted by the war.</p><p>And then he meets Sherlock Holmes. The druggie. The arrogant college kid. And possibly the most brilliant man John has ever seen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	College Captivation

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, let me know if you spot any issues. Enjoy! Next chapter will be up as soon as I can.

This was going to be John’s fifth year teaching at the university.

He still had nightmares.

He still woke up in cold sweat, clutching at his chest with one hand and reaching for a gun that wasn’t there with the other. He still heard the cries for help, still felt himself rushing from person to person, realizing he would never be able to reach everyone. Many of those cries had ended in desperate gasps, in hopeless pleas, and then a deathly silence. A silence that shook John Watson more than any sound of gunfire ever would.

The war had broken him in more ways than one.

John woke up in a daze, his groggy half-awake state making complex thought impossible. This was the consequence of preparing for class late into the evening, followed by his usual restless night.

He really couldn't afford to be out of it today. It was, after all, his first day of the new semester. New faces, all who had never taken his class before, many who he only knew as names on paper. It would be a battle in its own way.

John gave one more morning sigh for good measure and began the difficult process of getting himself out of bed. He swung his legs around to the side, sitting up in the process. The blood rushed away from his head, and he spent the next few seconds recollecting himself from the slight dizziness. It wasn’t that he was old or at all out of shape. No, it was as if John’s body had agreed with his mind in the assumption that now that he was back from Afghanistan, nothing needed to operate at full capacity.

John reached his hands out beside his bed, grasping blindly for his cane while his eyes adjusted to the early morning dimness of the room. He got ahold of the rubber handle, letting his hand grip tight as he made an effort to stand.

The walk to the bathroom was a long one, the dull thud of his cane a small reminder of his failings. A psychosomatic limp according to his therapist. Something he’s doing to himself. _Pathetic_. John washed his face in the sink, hoping to wash away his negative thoughts as well.

No such luck.

***

John arrived to his classroom about thirty minutes early. He put his cane down before placing both hands in front of him to lean on his desk. He looked out across the empty room. The slightly curved tables, the chairs soon to be filled with students. It was a small classroom, it would only have around thirty students total, but John liked the personal feeling of small classes. He cared about each individual student, and wanted to see them be successful.

Hopefully more successful than himself.

John shook his head clear as the first students began to file into class. He gave his best smile, hoping this semester would be a good one.

“Hello. Welcome to Physiology.”

***

John soon lost himself in his own lecture. He had an hour and a half to capture the minds of his students, and he always tried to use it as best as possible. They were starting with a basic overview of the course and what it would cover, but by the the time class had only around ten minutes remaining John was already talking animatedly about the anatomy of the heart.

It was five minutes before class was over when a tall young man walked into the room, just in time to catch the end of John’s lecture. Hearing the door open, a couple of students turned around to see him, refocusing their attention on John once they saw who it was causing the noise.

John looked to the new student, their eyes meeting.

He was definitely tall, all limbs really, with dark hair that was just a mess of curls. He wore a slightly-too-big-on-him blue shirt. His piercing grey eyes focused in on John without hesitation, leaving John feeling as though he was being judged. He made a mental note to talk to the student about his tardy policy once his lecture was finished. Many college professors didn't care if their students made it to class or not, but John was very strict about trying to get his students to come. The newcomer stood in the back of the room leaned up against the wall, making no movement to join the rest of the class.

John finished his lecture, thanking the students for coming and encouraging them to come to the next one. He told everyone the assigned reading could be found on the class’ website and he recommended they look at it for any future tests or quizzes. The students filed out soon after, and the curly-headed boy was beginning to leave as well, his face unreadable.

“Wait one second.”

The boy’s head snapped up and his eyes met John’s yet again. He seemed near scowling at being addressed, as if John was preventing him from much more important things.

“Yes, sorry I haven’t quite learned everyone’s name yet. I’m Dr.Watson. And you are?”

The young man stared long enough that John had to wonder if he was going to respond. Finally, he did. “...Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes.” John had to make an effort to not look surprised. Sherlock had a shockingly deep voice for a student. It was somewhat beautiful, really. It suits him, John decided. A beautiful voice for a beautiful person.

John realized his train of thought was beginning to take a turn where he didn't need it to, so he quickly reminded himself of his reason for stopping the young Mr.Holmes.

“Right. Nice too meet you, Mr.Holmes. I noticed you arrived to class very late today. I think it would be beneficial to you if-”

John was interrupted. “I wasn't aware you were in charge of my schedule, _Dr. Watson_. It was my understanding that, as an adult, it is entirely my choice whether or not I come to class at the appropriate time, if I even come at all. Besides, your lecturing is mediocre at best. And I highly doubt there’s anything you can teach me about the human body that I don’t already know.”

John was more than a little surprised to be spoken to like this, and he could feel heat rising in his cheeks. Sherlock just watched him, like a child might watch an animal at the zoo, waiting for him to do something. John felt his gaze and calmed himself down. No reason to get worked up, he was used to arrogant college students at this point. “I obviously can’t force you to come, _Mr.Holmes_ ,” John said, putting an emphasis on calling Sherlock Mr.Holmes, “but I do believe that my lectures will give you knowledge you didn't have before. Five minutes is hardly enough time to judge someone on their ability to teach.”

Sherlock gave John a look. “Five minutes is more than enough time to judge someone, doctor. For example, I know you served in the army, as a doctor of course. Either Afghanistan or Iraq, though I lean towards the former. You were shot in your left shoulder, which sent you home. So you returned to school and now you teach. But…” Sherlock stared at John, and then his eyes flickered to the cane still leaning against the desk. “...you still have psychological trauma from your time in the army. You probably have nightmares, as well as a psychosomatic limp.”

Sherlock’s eyes snapped up to meet John’s. He seemed ready for a hit, for anger, for any sort of negative reaction. John just stared at him, his face the definition of surprise.

“That...that was amazing!”

Sherlock actually gaped. “What?”

“How did you know all that?! Did you look it up? You were spot on!” John was radiating excitement, the exact opposite reaction Sherlock had expected.

“No...I didn't look it up...I just...I deduced you.” Sherlock stared at John, his face a mixture of surprise and skepticism. His cheeks were beginning to turn a bright crimson.

“What’s the matter? Why do you look so worried?”

“It’s just that people don’t normally react this way.” Sherlock had managed to regain himself some, his eyes scanning John’s face, devouring every detail.

“How do they normally react?”

“They normally tell me to piss off. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been punched by fellow students. All just for telling them the truth.” Sherlock tutted, as if everyone he talked to was an idiot who couldn't accept facts for what they were. John imagined he most likely actually thought that.

John laughed. “It sounds like you deserved it.” He smiled a genuine smile, his face lighting up, forgetting that he was supposed to be having a professional conversation with a student.

Sherlock smirked before remembering himself and letting his face return to the blank slate he kept it at. He shook his head, turned around, and started walking to the door. He said only one thing before leaving the classroom.

“I’ll come to class, Dr.Watson. Make sure your lectures make it worth my time.”

John just smiled.


End file.
